The Only Living Boy in New York

FORTY-SEVEN

Taylor

Time away with Van was always like a dream. He put so much thought into everything and he liked to splurge on wine and food, and a room with a view. Where he slept always mattered to him, the space always mattered to him. He couldn't care less about the tourist attractions or the history of a city and was content to sit on a balcony, cigarette lingering between his fingers, as the sun warmed him. And he was more than fine with not leaving the bed, which I would never have an issue with. At least not with him.

Packing up our things to leave was bittersweet. It was time to get back to work and back into our normal routines, and I was excited for him to record with The Deadcoast. In truth, I just wanted him making music again and doing what he loved. He was brimming with the thrill of being in the studio again and had exchanged messages with Benji and Copper about their plans. I could see the smile tug at his lips when he messaged them about things. There was a definite lightness to him that I hadn't seen before. I wondered if this was a side of himself that he missed, too. If the feelings made him homesick for Bob and Bondy, he said nothing about it. He hadn't mentioned either of them in months, and I didn't feel like it was appropriate to bring up the subject. He finally seemed to be over it enough that he was peaceful over their absence in his life.

We were quiet as we packed, both of us eager to get to the airport, but we knew we wouldn't have this moment again for a while. The absolute ease of not doing anything except exploring each other with no pressure or responsibility was slipping away. My cheeks flushed as I zipped up my toiletries in the bathroom and thought about how last night he'd had me sit on the edge of the counter and used the mirror for his support, his handprint still evident above the sink. He walked in and grabbed his razor to throw it in his bag, eyes traveling to the spot on the mirror I was looking at. He half smiled and kissed my cheek. "Love you." He said lowly before he vanished from the bathroom. My chest heaved at his words, just like it always did. I hoped that would never change.

When everything was packed we headed out the door and toward the elevator, an overwhelming sadness struck me. I didn't know when we'd do this again, but I'd hoped it wasn't too far away. We stood quietly next to each other in the lift before I felt him wrap his arm around me lazily.

"Come here." He mumbled as he pulled me toward him and kissed the side of my temple. "Thank you for the best two weeks of my life."

I smiled against his chest, his aftershave consuming me as I inhaled it. "I could say the same to you."

We stood like that until the elevator pinged and we released each other and walked toward the desk. There was a moment of hesitation from him as he rounded the corner, and a small commotion broke out. He turned and looked at me nervously as I pulled my bag upright.

"What?"

He pulled his sunglasses out of his bag and frowned. "I think I've been recognized. This...this might be awkward." He slid his glasses up his nose and I could see the tension bristle against his skin.

"Do you want me to hang back for a few minutes?"

"What? No. Absolutely not. I just want you to know what you're about to walk into. Remember the night at the Deadcoast's show?"

I nodded, relief flooding over me that he didn't want to keep me hidden.

"It's going to be like that, but worse. It's different here...more people knew us here. More people care..."

"Are you alright?"

He sighed, some of the tension momentarily leaving. "I will be. I'm glad we called for valet early. It'll be a check out and head straight to the car as fast as we can kind of thing. There's not too many, but there's enough."